In time, he heard her return to bed. When her breaths grew deep and even, Munro allotted himself an hour to sleep.
If he rested his eyes and cleared his mind, he’d stand a better chance of winning her over. Then, once they’d strengthened their bond, he could help her through her grief.
He programmed his phone alarm and sat on the floor outside the bedroom. Sleep came swiftly for one so deprived. As if to make up for his weeks without dreams, reveries bombarded him. He drifted from one to another in a bewildering montage, back, back centuries in time . . . to the last argument he’d ever had with his eighteen-year-old son.
. . . “You canna continue to take these risks,” he told Tàmhas. “How many times must we speak of this?” He’d discovered his son trying to play sports with Lykae lads. Again. “You canna go up against the others. It’s much too dangerous.” He knew in his gut that Tàmhas’s next close call would be his last. How foolish Munro had been to take a fragile mortal into the pack!
Cheeks flushed to match his red hair, Tàmhas said, “If you’re this worried about my safety, then let me get a protection spell from the witches.”
“Blasphemy! I raised you better than this. We doona truck with their kind!”
“Then I’ll become a Lykae. I told you Heath would bite me, Da.”
Hotheaded Prince Heath. “That will never happen.” Munro’s hands balled into fists. “No’ while I live. If I have to fight a prince of the Lykae, then I bloody will!”
Clearly surprised by his da’s unusual show of anger, Tàmhas said, “I’ve thought and thought about this, and my path is clear. I canna live like this. I must have immortality, Da, or I must go. And if that is what has to occur, I will never be able to see you again.” Voice breaking, he said, “I’ll never want to be reminded of all I’ve lost.”
Munro had known this day would come, the ever-present worry like an aching wound that refused to regenerate. To Tàmhas’s obvious shock, he said, “I know. You have to go.”
As Tàmhas left that very night, he’d looked back over his shoulder and said, “I only ever wanted to belong, Da.”
“That’s all most want. But it is no’ possible here for you, son.” Choking back his grief, he’d watched his beloved lad set off into a perilous mortal world, lost to him forever.
Yet they had met once more. “Da, how did this happen? How?”
Munro’s reverie tumbled from that agonizing memory to another scene, one that had never been. . . .
He and Will stood in the Fyre Dragán’s lair at the edge of its fiery pit. Instead of the sound of crackling flames, an irritating ringing echoed throughout the cavern.
Sunken-eyed and broken, Will said, “Time for me to take a bow.” All he had to do was jump into the fire, and he’d be gone forever.
“Never! I’ll no’ let you do this.” For centuries, Munro had felt that if he could just say the right thing, he could fix Will. Now he struggled to ignore that ringing as he grasped for the words to change his twin’s mind. “Bràthair, do you no’ understand? You canna dive off the deep end when we’re on the platform together. You canna leave me behind.”
Will smiled his soulless smile. “Like father, like son.” He leapt.
“Nooo!” Munro watched in horror as Will melted away. Then he realized it wasn’t Will in the fire.
It was Munro. My face melting—
His eyes flashed open, his heart pounding. Where the hell was he? He frowned down at his ringing phone and turned off the alarm.
Then he registered his mate’s scent. Kereny was close by. Safe. He lumbered to his feet and sneaked a glance through the bedroom door. She lay on her side, her lips parted.
So vulnerable. So mortal.
Had he actually promised to take her back into the Cursed Forest? He’d barely gotten her out alive the first time.
He dragged himself away, closed the door, then headed downstairs. The nymphs had left a pot of coffee warming. Bless them. As the rain poured outside, he filled a cup.
He’d just taken his first sip when he received a call from his king.
Lachlain skipped the greetings. “You’ve been busy, friend.”
“What have you heard?”
“Madadh briefed me on everything he knows. I’m glad you got yourself and your men free, since your king could do fuck-all for you. Thanks to Nïx.”
“Loa told me the Valkyrie is working with the Forgotten. Strange bedfellows.”
“Nïx wants a warlock sphere to cover this planet to protect us from the Møriør.”
“Why is the Ever-Knowing One concerned about them? She can foresee their every move and direct our alliance to defeat them.”
“We’ve learned that Orion the Undoing—the Møriør’s leader—can see the weakness in anything. Any fortress, any battle plan, any warrior. Even Nïx’s own weaknesses. A type of foresight in itself,” Lachlain said. Munro pictured the king sitting by a window at Kinevane Castle, gazing out at the Highlands with a thoughtful look on his face.
“The Ever-Knowing’s alliance versus the Undoing’s should be an epic matchup,” Munro said. “But this pits our clan against Darach Lyka. Do we no’ owe our loyalty to the alpha of us all?” Loyalty was the Lykae way.
“No’ while he’s following the lead of someone else. If the Møriør want to subjugate us, we’ll have to fight. Primordial alpha or no.”
“Agreed,” Munro said, but not without regret.
Lachlain had only recently escaped the Vampire Horde’s torture beneath the streets of Paris. They’d burned him alive for a hundred and fifty years. After so many ages of hungering for war, now Munro wanted peace—for his king, for his pack, and for himself and his new mate.
“Garreth and Lucia are out scouting for information on other Møriør members. I’ll let you know more details as they uncover them.”
“Good. I’m curious about our enemies,” Munro said. “And about my brother as well. I’ve heard Will and Chloe are solid.”
When the two of them had set off for Conall, Munro hadn’t known which scenario terrified him more: Will ruining his matehood—or healing because of it. Munro had lain awake wondering, If they make a fresh start, what will I do with myself?
It was an unworthy thought, and one that shamed him, but the truth was that he’d lived for his brother for centuries. The prospect of living for himself had daunted him—until he’d found his mate.